


Where's the boss?

by OhHolyHell



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: !!!, AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, but then, not sure when this is set, so it's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 00:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10686165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhHolyHell/pseuds/OhHolyHell
Summary: The slow nature of the day meant that they didn't even bother to begin with the morning brief, Chandler already shut up in his office, signalling that it wasn't a great idea to disturb him.Until they realised he wasn't.





	Where's the boss?

**Author's Note:**

> Please stick with me, even though that title is so bad even I'm cringing!
> 
> I hope you enjoy kids!
> 
> And yeah, no I did not proofread this....

The Incident room was quiet when they all arrive for a long Monday of cold cases and 'interesting' crime sent their way. Which usually consisted of burglaries where someone had stolen something stupid, probably the other departments' idea of a joke. The slow nature of the day meant that they didn't even bother to begin with the morning brief, Chandler already shut up in his office, signalling that it wasn't a great idea to disturb him. 

Until they realised he wasn't.

Miles had groaned into the manilla file on his desk and declared that it was time for the brief on the few (if any) developments made in the current cases over the weekend. Everyone had agreed heartily, even the boredom of a brief a respite from endless paperwork and dead-ended cold cases.

But when the DS had made it to the glass office door, there was no-one in there. 

"Has the bugger hidden in the loos?" Both Riley and Kent shook their heads at Mansell, the boss had definitely not passed through the room at all. They had toyed with the idea of him being sick after that but with no texts for anyone and his extreme cleanliness, it was hard to believe that he'd be ill, even harder to believe that he'd not come to work because of it.

Now the Incident room is even quieter and while pretending to read and read again the case file in front of him, Kent finds himself thinking back to the previous Friday night; and the massive argument him and the boss had had.

 _"Emerson! We can't! There is just no way that would work! I can't- I'm already the scapegoat of the media!" Chandler is yelling, only fair because Kent was practically_ screaming _beforehand, but it still makes Kent flinch, always has, probably always will. That is if they ever have enough of a relationship left over to fight about._

 _"Oh is that_ right? _Is that fucking right?! Joseph Chandler, are you putting your career above me?" Kent didn't even know his voice could get this loud but there it is, practically echoing off of Chandler's white, white, white walls. He can see the physical pain that the volume of his retort is causing Chandler and he clicks his teeth together, shutting off the rest of his angry words._

_"Look, Emerson, I know this isn't what you want and-" He cuts off Kent's interruption with a look and carries on, "It is definitely not what I want, but the only way we'd be able to not be sneaking around is if- Oh I don't know- If I transferred or something-"_

_"But that's not going to bloody happen? Is it Joe? You'd never do that for me! Because your job is more important to you! I think that if I left you right now, you'd care less that if you got fired! In fact, Why don't I?" In the ensuing silence, Kent hears the thread of a metal lid on glass and knows the Tiger Balm is coming out. He rolls his eyes, hard and Chandler screws his eyes shut, breathing through his nose._

_In, out, in, out, in, in, in- Chandler yanks the small, hexagonal pot from his pocket and whirls around, bowling it at the wall behind him, where it makes an almighty crack as it bounces off._

_As Chandler turns back and briskly stalks out of his own flat, Kent notices that the colour of his coat's lining- they hadn't even taken their coats off before Kent had laid into him- matches the taste of the blood from his bitten lip._

_Slowly, slowly, giving Chandler time to get far away from the flat, Kent picks up the small pot and screws on the lid. He leaves it on the corner of the kitchen island, equal space from the both edges and leaves the flat, fighting the urge to run back and smack the jar off of the table. He doesn't ring Chandler once and isn't surprised that Chandler doesn't call him either._

A hot wash of guilt drops itself over Kent and he suddenly thinks, what if? What if he's pulled a sickie to stop seeing Kent today? He dismisses the idea, Chandler is too professional, would have come in and acted the same way whatever happened. Glancing up, Kent pretends not to notice the way Miles has narrowed his eyes at Kent's suddenly red ears.

At around one o'clock, when all of them, apart from Kent who is now feeling actively nauseous with worry, have forced down some food and returned to the incident room, Riley notices the manilla envelope pinned to the sparsely filled 'murder board'. It is ominously wonky, compared to the rest of the papers, suggesting that Chandler did not put it there, yet the writing on the front is unmistakably the DI's, spelling;

**Detective Sergeant Miles,**

**Detective Constable Riley**

**Detective Constable Mansell**

**Detective Constable Kent.**

The glances they all share are not hopeful and they all look to Miles for an explanation.

"Well, this means that he's not dead. They always inform you in person if someone dies."

"Right, so all we know is that he's not _dead_ "

"Well, not really."

"Thanks, skip..."

Riley is the one who eds up opening it, facing the others as she skims it before reading.

"It's- It's a transfer form." She quiets them all down with a downwards wave of the hand, "Shush, shush. It's an immediate transfer from, he put it in on Friday fucking night!" Riley ignores Miles' growled 'Language' at her unexpected outburst, "He's going to work in _fraud_ "

Kent barely hears Mansell muttering, "Bullshit," through the rushing white noise filling up his ears. He backs out of the room, lip quivering, and is eternally gratefully when none of them follow him in, probably assuming that he is sad over the loss of his hero in the department, not the fact that after all that, all that fucking fuss at Chandler's apartment, he ended getting a transfer anyway. Although before this might have meant a new opportunity in their relationship, this feels like an ending.

The rest of Monday brings a silently brooding team that does not talk, communicate, laugh or get much work done.

Tuesday is emails and memos send down to fraud every hour and forty-two minutes. It was Mansell's idea to send them at irregular times throughout the day to see if it gets a rise out of the man. It does not.

On Wednesday, they start texting and calling, always funny numbers; Kent send 21 texts and 13 calls. Mansell manages to get Kent to use his not inconsiderable technological skill to print off funny, then strongly worded, then politely begging letters off on fraud's wireless printer. They get complaints from fraud but not the man himself. 

On Thursday, Miles has had enough and storms down at lunch, knowing full well that Chandler will be there, eating his tuna wrap at his desk, cramming more work in. Except when he returns, he throws his hands up in the air and yells 'Out For Lunch!'

Thursday night is date night. Kent cries as he watches TV in his own flat on Thursday, even though he's kind of sure it's not really his fault. Right? Claire comes in, takes one look at him, curled up morosely on the sofa and dumps a spoon and a slightly microwaved tub of Ben and Jerry's in his lap. She contributes to the effort but in the end Kent manages to consume all of the Karamel Sutra in one episode of Marple.

He's feeling more than a little bit queasy and borderline lactose intolerant on Friday but he dutifully dresses in his best suit and at least third best tie, does his hair just so and is about to march out of the door when he hears Claire whistle behind him,

"Cor blimey! Go get him Tiger!" Kent is in the middle of rolling his eyes when she tacks on a giggled "-Balm!" and almost collapses, laughing at her own joke. 

He gets in a good hour before literally anyone's shift starts. So he calculates that Chandler's probably been there for about twenty minutes. Fraud is a bit of a trek from 'unusual crime' but he goes anyway but stop just short of entering when he sees that there is a woman on Chandler's desk. ON it. Kent has to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the snort that rises from his mouth, despite the burning jealousy when he sees that look in his eyes that says 'move your arse any closer and you'll risk moving my stuff. And your life.' He swears he catches Chandler's eye through the small wire crossed window and hopes, hopes, begs that he ducked out of the way in time.

They spend the entirety of the day in the Incident Room picking at random cases they find strewn around them. Without Chandler, even with Kent's best efforts, they've become slovenly and with no DI but the acting DI (Miles), they have become aimless and lacking in drive. When the end of the shift finally, finally, Finally rolls around, and god, never has a day dragged on so much, Kent stays behind to tidy and work a little more, putting the blame on the newly brewed cuppa (craftily timed if he does say so himself) while the others leave. Miles is last, as usual, and clasps Kent's shoulder tightly, reassuringly, 

"We'll get him back son, you know we will." He gives the DS a hopefully convincing half smile and waves him off shuffling some files. 

As per the plan he drew up yesterday with Claire, over Marple, Karamel Sutra- and, later, cheap red wine, Kent stays in the Incident Room for an hour then makes his way into the car park, moving his vespa to where he spotted Chandler's car in the morning, and waits.

He waits there, perched, poised, for twenty minutes before Chandler leaves, thankfully sans new girlfriend. It's not long before Chandler spots him, and Kent is almost sure that he's just going to turn back inside. He instead walks, haltingly, over to where Kent is sitting on his orange bike.

"DC Kent."

"Joe." Chandler's eyes give him a look that betrays his surprise at the name but he doesn't seem to have a comment so Kent doesn't stop. "I'm sorry." Chandler suddenly looks surprised, but Kent ignores it, "I'm sorry I said that you valued your job more than me, and I'm sorry I shouted, but please, please come back. You've made your point now and we're useless without you. I think there were some points where even Miles didn't know what to do without you."

"My- My point?"

"Yes! That you'd get a transfer at the drop of a hat, yaddah yaddah, blah blah."

"I didn't get it to prove that." He replies to Kent's unspoken question, "I got it because you ended things, and I love you, and it hurts. To be there, and not be able to love you. Worse than hiding it, for sure." 

When Kent had decided to do this, he really hadn't expected that if he was honest, maybe a shouting match, cursing, maybe crying, but not a calm explanation and- wait- did Chandler just say that he loves him? And that he ended things? Oh God.

"Joe. Would it help if I said I love you too?"

"If you meant it, truly meant it," It feels like Chandler is staring right into Kent's heart, "Then I'd feel better about letting people know about us as a couple but also in the same department, if it was love on the line, not just some silly infatuation." It hit Kent then, that Chandler had really, honestly thought that there was anything but love there.

"Did you really believe that i felt anything but love for you ?"

'"I didn't know what to think." That's fair, Kent supposes.

Kent doesn't know when he stood up, or when he started walking over to Chandler, but he's now only inches away and Kent can smell the tiger balm, and the soap and hand sanitiser and shower gel and the musk of his skin. Kent's hands are on the DI's shoulders, in his hair and his eyes are asking a question that by the look on Chandler's face, he already knows the answer to.

Cliché as it is, Kent truly feels something click when he kisses Chandler, like it's the first time again, they go slow and chaste, just tasting and relishing the closeness. The click brings something home inside Kent and though, he thinks they may be from different pictures, him and Chandler are like two puzzle pieces, sliding home.

"Oh, Emerson." Something warm blooms, unfurls in his chest at the use of his name once more and he grins.

"I love you Joseph Chandler."

Chandler initially offers to take Kent out for dinner, they did miss date night after all, but Kent declines, in favour of being pushed up (and doing some of the pushing-up) against every wall in Chandler's flat, including the one with the suspiciously Tiger Balm sized dent in it.

***

On Monday, Ray Miles arrives at work to three surprises. The first being the complaint, and bill from fraud about the cost of paper used out of their printer, the second being the complaint from downstairs for retracting their transfer almost instantly, attached to the second transfer he's had to sign in a fortnight, the third the fact that his boss was now seated right back where he should be.

Good god. Make that four surprises, he thinks as Kent seems to materialise at the filing cabinet in the office, branding some manilla, and promptly leans down to kiss the smug grin (of disconcertingly unknown origin) off of DI Chandler's lips.

He smiles, shuffles his papers and is generally glad that everything is back to normal.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing that came to me because Chandler is very proper about rules until his precious boyfriend is involved ;) 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy and I'd love to read your feedback!! :)


End file.
